“Ironbrow Forge sits at the edge of town in a perpetually warm, soot-streaked building. The shop smells of hot metal, coal smoke, and beeswax. Tools hang from hooks in strict order and samples of finished work line a counter scarred with years of hammer strikes. Thalgar Ironbrow, a stout mountain dwarf of roughly middle age, runs the forge. He is a level 9 artificer by trade with the practical instincts of a veteran smith: his left forearm bears a permanent burn scar in the shape of a rune, and his braided beard is threaded with tiny bits of filed metal. Thalgar speaks with blunt honesty and a dry, gravelly laugh. He will haggle only within reason, will repair weapons for a modest fee (typically 5 gp plus materials for simple repairs), and offers custom tempering and runic inlays on commission. He has an odd habit of tapping any unfamiliar weapon three times before handing it over and keeps a battered brass bell that he rings twice before opening the shop door each morning. Regulars know to bring a mug of strong tea as a gift; Thalgar keeps the best coals for friends and will sometimes offer a discounted price for a tale of a good adventure.”